He doesn’t need to prove anything to me. It’s evident in everything he does.
The pitter patter of Biscuit coming to lick my hands has me lifting my head again. She barks once, as if agreeing with what I have in mind.
“Yes, Biscuit. We’re his family now.”
With my dog in my arms and the springs of the threadbare sofa under my ass, I call my cousin.
“Cio, cugina. Tutto bene?”
“Ciao, Dante.”
“Dante? My God, you only call me that when you’re about to ask me for massive favours. What’s wrong?”
I sigh, the weight of the last hour finally settling on my shoulders.
“My flat’s been raided,” I declare flatly. Like any time danger comes too close to my shore, violence threads my cousin’s voice as he asks for clarification.
“What happened?”
I don’t have much to go on but I tell him about the home invasion, about Toma’s flat across from mine. He doesn’t sound surprised so it’s not a stretch for me to conclude that Dante knew Toma was here all along.
“You should come home,” he says. But home hasn’t been London for me. Ever.
“I have three tests coming up this week, but then we’ll come back. I can take the last lessons online.”
“We?”
“Toma’s coming with me.” I remain inflexible and stoic, proud of myself when my voice doesn’t waver though my whole body buzzes with the excitement of standing firm, and the latent fear of rejection. He’s the Don after all.
“Alright,” Dante simply answers. “Where’s Toma now?”
As he asks, the keys jingle and the door opens to reveal Toma’s massive frame. “He just got back. I’ll call you later.” I don’t wait for necessary goodbyes and hang up.
Toma’s eyes are sunken and his shoulders cave inwards. On the corner of his jaw, a muscle works. His back hits the door when he closes it but he remains there. This is taking a toll on him. I’d never blame him for not knowing this could happen or for not preventing it, and I tell him as much but the words hit a wall. He’s not hearing them. He’s not even looking at me.
I stand and tentatively approach, then place a hand on his shoulder. He flinches and recoils, and I frown at the reaction. Then he proceeds to put distance between us again. It’s hard in the small space. He manages somehow. And an ocean could be between us right now with how cold his whole demeanour is.
“Do you feel better?” I ask.
His jaw clenches again and he turns his back on me, ignoring Biscuit when she whines at his feet for a pet.
That’s unlike him. He’s obsessed with her.
Tension grows in the air, so thick I can feel it settle on my skin like glacial snow.
Toma throws a set of keys on the small round table in the middle of the room. I recognise them instantly. They’re his set. Of our flat.
“You should go home.”
Even his voice sounds different. Far away and bored.
“Piccolo, what wrong?”
I’ve been here before. The moment before I’m being shut away. Before bad news is delivered, changing my destiny forever. I can’t do it again.
“What’s wrong is us, Lucie,” he laughs coldly, the sound slithering over my skin like a snake. I step back, unconsciously trying to put distance between this version of Toma and the one I know, the one who stole my heart. Whoever the man in front of me is, he’s not the man I love. But I don’t understand the sudden change.
“You don’t mean that. Whatever happened, we can fight this together.” I need to reason with him, bring him back to safety. “Dante will send someone to check who broke into my flat. We’ll figure it out. We can even stay here if we need. I’ll go get some essentials.”
